North Park
by Kaytlin-Broflovski
Summary: Kyle Broflovski and his family have just moved to North Park after receiving a strange certificate to a free house. What can they expect but total happiness in this Jewish Paradise? Or so they thought...rated T for language and some other naughty stuff.
1. Chapter 1: The Coupon

Chapter One: The Coupon

Kyle yawned and slid down from his bed. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand. Six-thirty. The nine-year-old had always been an early riser.

But suddenly, he could hear an ominous voice echo out of thin air.

"Look under your brother's pillow…"

Kyle blinked. "Um, why?"

"J-just do it, okay!"

Sighing, the young boy tiptoed across the silent hallway and creaked open the door. Little Ike, his adopted Canadian brother, was sleeping peacefully in his bed.

Carefully, as not to disturb the sleeping toddler, Kyle wedged his hand under the pillows, feeling around until he pulled out a small, black slip of crinkled paper. In a sloppy, red font, it read:

FREE HOUSE

in

North Park, Texas

(Home of the Jews)

Kyle stared. "Oh, my god!" he whispered. "I didn't even know there WAS a North Park!" But then the line at the bottom finally clicked in his head. "Wait…Home of the…Jews? Holy shit! A town full of people like me?!"

Kyle, with several thoughts in his head, quietly hurried back to his room.

"Dude- why did my brother have this thing?" he muttered, gazing at the coupon.

"Uh…I left it there. 'Cause, I mean, you guys are Jewish, right? So you'd like…love it there!" the dark voice rang.

"Who are you?"

"Uhh…I'm the…the p-pizza guy! Yeah, and…I was just there and uh…I got you that coupon."  
"Why were you here?"

"Uhh...your brother…ordered a pizza."

Kyle frowned, furrowing his eyebrows in disbelief. "He's three. He can't even say 'pizza.' And if you're just the pizza guy, why can I hear you in my head?" he asked.

"Um, I'm an imaginary pizza guy…"

"_What?_"

"Bye!"

Kyle heard nothing else. He sighed again and got ready for school.

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Later that cold morning, Kyle approached the bus stop, where he met his three friends: Stan, Eric Cartman- simply going by Cartman most of the time- and Kenny.

"What's on your mind, Jew?" blurted the rude Cartman, who always enjoyed taunting Kyle for his religion.

"I found this coupon for a free house in some Jew town." Kyle grumbled. "The pizza guy left it under my brother's pillow. He says my family would love it there."

Stan, who happened to be the closest of Kyle's friends, frowned. "Okay…first of all, that is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Two: you're not actually moving away, are you?!"

"Number one: it is a little suspicious, I guess…" retorted Kyle, a bit annoyed. "Two: I don't wanna leave my friends behind, but it does sound like my kind of place!"

"Okay," added Cartman," one, suspicious or not, you're not looking at the big picture here: free freakin' house! And number two, I say let him leave, Stan! That'd kick so much ass!"

Stan and Kyle glared. Kenny, peeking through the tiny opening in the hood of his coat, grew tired of the argument. "Mrfmrm- mrmrfmr, mrfrmmrmrmrfmrf. Mrr, mrfmrmrf, mrmrmrfmrf!" he told them.

"Kenny, how can you say that?!" cried Cartman. "I thought Kyle was your friend!"

"Oh, shut up, you fat bastard!" yelled Kyle. "Anyway, like I said, I think it sounds like a cool place. I just don't know."

"Dude," snickered Cartman, "there is no fucking way a Jewish town could be cool. At all."

"Cartman, shut your goddamn mouth!" growled Kyle. He sighed and stared at the ground, silent.

"…kick the baby?" Cartman offered brightly.

"Eh- _what?_ No, I only kick Ike," sighed Kyle.

He was very quiet in school that day.

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At dinner, Kyle spooned up a bite of broccoli and let it drop back on the plate. His parents stared, concerned.

"Kyle, is something bothering you?" asked his father, Gerald.

"Guys…if you had a chance to live- for free- in a town with only Jews, do you think you would do it?"

Gerald and Sheila glimpsed at each other. "Son…"Gerald began slowly, "I would kill your mother…right now…and eat her entrails…if I could live in such a town."

"That's right, there's nothing we wouldn't give to be with our own kind all the time," Sheila agreed, digging back in to her meal.

"Why do you ask?" Gerald wanted to know.

Kyle gulped. "J-just curious…"

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That night, Kyle was restless as he tossed and turned in bed.

"Always being accepted as a Jew…" he whispered to himself with delight. "No more Cartman to constantly rip on me! NO MORE CARTMAN!" But then Kyle came to another thought and moaned in dismay. "And…no more Kenny, and no more…Stan…"

Suddenly, he growled, stomped into Ike's room, grabbed Ike, and punted him while yelling, "Kick the goddamn baby!" Ike went crashing through the window and fell in the snow, still sound asleep.

Satisfied, Kyle sighed and returned to bed.

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"Kyle, I can't believe you would do this!" shouted Stan, chastising Kyle as he somewhat solemnly packed his bags into the car. "By the way, Cartman already left for Christmas vacation, so he gave me this note."

Kyle took the note from Stan and read it aloud: "Kyle: Goodbye forever, Jewtard. Cartman. Goddammit."

Just then, Kenny came up the sidewalk, holding a small box.

"Kenny, can you believe Kyle?" grumbled Stan. "He's leaving so he can make a whole bunch of new Jew friends!"

"Mrmrf," said Kenny, "rmrfmrmrmrmrmrfmrf."

"Aww, Kenny, you didn't have to get me a present," Kyle told him, hesitantly taking the box in his hands.

"Frfmrf, mrfrmmrfmrmrf," laughed Kenny, running off back to his house without another word.

"Oh," sighed Kyle. He opened the box and found a single frozen waffle. But under the waffle was a note addressed to him.

Kyle,

Thanks for being Kenny's friend. Whatever he says, we're sure he'll miss you.

-Kenny's parents

P.S.- Before you leave, can we have our waffle back?

"Kyle, say goodbye to Stan. It's time to go." called Gerald as he and Sheila climbed into the front seats.

Kyle turned to Stan, who still had venom in his eyes. "Listen…" he began. "You're my best friend. So no matter how great this town may be…I…I'm gonna miss you a lot." He left his helplessly teary-eyed friend with a quick hug and jumped into the car next to his brother. As the family drove away, Kyle and Stan stared at each other until they were out of each others' sight.

Meanwhile, they were being watched.

"Now…my plan shall fall into place…" and evil voice laughed. "I, Satan, shall soon rule the world! Once the two are together, it will all be over…yes…"


	2. Chapter 2: On South to North Park

Chapter Two: North Park, Which is South of South Park

"Kyle, wake your brother up. We're almost there," said Sheila. Kyle sighed and nudged Ike in the arm. Ike stirred and glared at his whistling brother.

"Look, boys! This looks like such a nice town," exclaimed Gerald. "Southeastern Texas sure is beautiful."

Kyle peeked out the window. The streets were lined with trees bearing leaves of all different colors. Not a speck of snow was anywhere to be seen.

"Wow," he gasped. "Even in the winter, this place is warm."

"Guess you won't be wearing that hat anymore, huh, Son?" Gerald teased.

"No! I'm not taking it off." Kyle whined, folding his arms as his parents chuckled.

"Oh, look! There's our house," Sheila pointed to a red-roofed, two-story, green house with a small flower patch around the stairs leading up to the front door.

Kyle soon had all of his things set up in his room. He decided to go for a walk, but then his parents once again asked him to take off his hat.

"I don't care that it's seventy-nine degrees out," he protested. "I am NOT taking off my hat!"

"Sweetie, you're going to burn up out there," pleaded Sheila. "Well, at least take off your jacket."

Swearing under his breath, Kyle tossed his orange coat on the chair and left. He shuffled his feet through the fallen leaves on the sidewalk. Soon, he came across the elementary school that he would soon be attending. He gazed up at the sign.

NORTH PARK ELEMENTARY

No one was there. The playground was completely deserted.

"Why would a Jew town have a Christmas vacation?" Kyle questioned no one in particular. He wandered around more until he noticed two girls sitting in a small, inflated pool on their front lawn and staring at him.

"Dude, what's with the hat?" the girl with dyed-blue hair jeered.

"Yeah, it's way too hot out for that thing," added the brunette.

"I never take off my hat," Kyle told them. "I just moved here all the way from Colorado."

"Oh," the brunette replied.

"So anyways, how great is this town, huh?" cheered Kyle. "A whole town with Jewish people only! I'll bet it's so awesome here!"

The girls frowned. "What the hell are you talking about, kid?" asked the blue-head.

"The Jews!" Kyle repeated. "There's no one but Jews in this town, right?"

"Wait a minute," the blue-head began. "You're Jewish?"

"Of course I am."

But the girls frowned more. "Get outta here, butthole," the brunette told him lowly.

"Huh…?" muttered Kyle. The girls whispered to each other as they warily watched him shrug and leave. Kyle was confused. Moments later, he passed by two boys, talking and laughing.

"My dad told me I'm getting the Nintendo Wii for Christmas! Finally!" one boy bragged as Kyle eavesdropped over his shoulder. He whirled around.

"Wait, why are you celebrating Christmas?" he implored. The boys turned. "What about Hanukkah?"

Now the boys frowned. "Who cares about Hanukkah?" scoffed one of them.

"Yeah, that stupid holiday is for those stupid, no-good, ass-cracking Jews," added the other scornfully.

"Why would you say such bad things about the Jews?!" cried Kyle.

"Are you new here, kid?"

"Everyone here hates the Jews!"

Kyle froze. "Wh-_what_…?"

"Jewish people suck; this entire town is against them."

The two boys left a speechless Kyle to gape at their backs as they walked away. Suddenly, his face crumpled with anger.

"That goddamn pizza guy LIED to me!" he growled to himself. With that, he began to storm back to his house.

But then he passed back by the elementary school, a girl stood on the sidewalk dressed in black, throwing rocks at the windows of the school.

Somehow, Kyle immediately forgot his troubles. He stopped mere feet away from her. "What are you doing?" he questioned without much thought.

"You blind?" she shot back, not even blinking away from her activity. "I'm trashin' the school."

"Obviously…" mumbled Kyle, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "_Why_, I mean?"

The girl stopped throwing, but her scowl did not turn away from the gray building. "Because everyone here sucks!" she hissed. "People like me shouldn't live here…everyone hates me for the dumbest reason!"

Kyle was curious now. "So…you have nothing against the school? Just your classmates?"

"And teachers…" the girl added, finally turning to Kyle. "I hate _every_one."

Something clicked into place. "What about…church?" asked Kyle. "Do you hate your…pastor?"

"Do I _look_ like I go to church? Are you new here or something? And what's with that hat? It's hot outside. You're really weird."

Kyle ignored most of it. "_Do I look like I go to church_" was his main concern. "Why don't you…y'know, go to church?"

"I'm not telling you, because then…you'll know. And you'll hate me."

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

"Just go away already!"

After that word, the girl turned and began stomping away. But Kyle finally guessed, barely loud enough for her to hear:

"You're Jewish, aren't you?" he uttered seriously. Suddenly, the girl froze and faced Kyle, her expression mixing exasperation and shame.

"Yeah, fine! You caught me. I told you, didn't I? I'm a Jew. That's right. J-O-O. I-am-a-Jew." she blurted, stepping back up in his face.

Kyle's jaw fell. Then he beamed. "M-me, too!" he squealed.

The girl blinked. "_Huh?_"

"I'm Jewish! My name's Kyle Broflovski."

She gasped. "A-Andrea…" she stuttered finally, almost appearing a bit suspicious now. "Andrea Rosenblatt."

"My family came here 'cause somebody told us that North Park was a town _for_ Jewish people, not against them. I'm from South Park."

Andrea stared. "South Park…?" she repeated, definitely wary now.

"Yeah. Something wrong?"

"No, never mind. So, where's that?"

"What?"

"South Park. Where is it?"

"Oh, up north."

"Cool." Finally, Andrea smiled a bit.

"So, why do you live here if this whole town is against you?"

"Well, actually, if it were up to ME, we would've left a long time ago. But my parents like it here because they don't have to go to church…"

"I wish I had never heard of this place."

"I don't blame you. This town sucks. Every day, I'm picked on one way or another. It's just awful!"

"Well, it's not…_all_ bad."

Silence. The kids stared at the ground. Seconds later, Kyle heard a familiar babbling approaching from behind. He turned, curious, to see Ike plodding their way.

"Ike? Goddammit, stop following me!" demanded Kyle. Ike bubbled a response along the lines of "Kyle's a girl-kisser!" and clung to his brother's leg. Kyle groaned, vexed.

"Is he your brother?" Andrea estimated, patting the unfamiliar toddler's head. "He doesn't look that much like you."

"He's adopted from Canada," sighed Kyle, yanking Ike off of his leg. "Hey, Andrea- check this out. Ready, Ike? Kick the baby!"

"Don't kick the baby!" ordered Ike.

"Kick the baby," Kyle went along anyway, once again kicking his brother across the street, where he safely landed in a pile of leaves.

"Cool!" cheered Andrea.

"Well, I'd better get home now. I'll see you around, Andrea," said Kyle, crossing the street and grabbing up his brother.

"Hey, Kyle?" called Andrea. "Are you…in the fourth grade?"

"Yeah…?" he replied, a question in his voice.

Andrea lit up. "See you in school!" And she pranced away. Kyle beamed back again and left.

Ike gazed up at his dreamy-eyed brother. "Kyle and Andrea, ring around the rosy! Yaaay!" he sang.

Kyle didn't seem to notice.


	3. Chapter 3: School

Chapter Three: School

"Are you excited for school, boys?" asked Gerald over breakfast one morning.

"I guess," responded Kyle, somewhat distant.

"Your father and I are going out to meet some of our new Jewish fellows today," Sheila told her sons. "We've been far too busy unpacking, but now that we're finished, we can invite people in for dinner and everything!"

Kyle quickly decided against telling them the truth about North Park. "_I can't leave Andrea alone again_…" he told himself.

"Have you made any friends yet, Kyle?" Gerald wanted to know.

"Uh…just one."

"What's his name?"

Fearing that his parents would pry on him so hastily befriending a girl, Kyle hesitated to reply, "Andrew."

Later, he waited outside the door to his new classroom as the teacher instructed. The bell rang. The hall quickly emptied, Kyle observed. He awaited his cue.

"…so please welcome Kyle…Barf-olloski," Kyle heard. The door opened, and he stepped in, taking in the whole classroom. He noticed Andrea in the far back corner, smiling at him expectantly. He smiled back.

"Well, Kyle, I'm Mr. Chokesonmuf. Take a seat anywhere." the teacher grumbled. Without thinking twice, Kyle waltzed right over to one of the many empty seats beside Andrea.

"Why are you sitting by the Jew?" asked the boy in front of him as the whole class watched.

"That kid IS a Jew!" blurted a familiar brunette girl in the front. "Blue and I saw him a few days ago."

"Yeah," agreed the blue-haired girl ironically called Blue.

"Aw, great, an-n-n_uh_-nother J-Jew?" a lazy-eyed boy stuttered.

"Tommy!" shouted a fidgeting boy in a wheelchair.

"That's enough, class. It's not their fault they have no souls," Mr. Chokesonmuf demanded.

Andrea sighed, carelessly resting her chin in one hand.

"Don't you ever say anything?" whispered Kyle, sympathetic.

"What do you want me to say?" Andrea responded blankly, staring at the writing etched in her desktop. Kyle read it.

"Jew-whore?" he muttered.

"I'm used to it…" she mumbled back.

Class progressed very slowly. Regardless of how many times he raised his hand, Kyle never got to answer a single question. When the bell finally rang for recess, not soon enough, he and Andrea were called to see the teacher.

"Andrea, since you're the only one that speaks Jewish, you're gonna have to introduce Kyle to everyone." explained Mr. Chokesonmuf. Kyle and Andrea frowned, angered by his comment.

Out on the playground, Andrea began to point people out.

"Going down the slide is a kid everyone calls Biscuits," she began. "He's the pansy in our class. Anyways, there's Kento, the rich Asian kid. That's Blue, but her real name is Lucy. Over there are the cripples, Johnny and Tommy. Johnny wants to be a singer, and Tommy can't really talk. All he can say is his name. Johnny's the one on crutches, and Tommy's in the wheelchair. Serves them right."

Kyle frowned. _Kinda harsh. But then…_

Just then, three boys walked up and greeted the two of them.

"Kyle, these guys are my friends because they're the only ones in this town who don't mind Jews," informed Andrea.

"I'm Dan," the boy with a purple-poofball hat stated, "and I fight the corporations."

"That's Benny," added Andrea, pointing to the one wearing a ten-gallon hat and a red bandana over his mouth. "You…might not catch everything he says."

"Mrf," said Benny.

Andrea went on, motioning to the third boy, who was short and stout. "And Fatass over there, that's Eric Hartman."

"Aye!" grunted Hartman, glaring. "Tis yer own mistake to be a'callin' me fat. You be a'watchin' yer tongue nah, hear?"

"So, you're Jewish, too?" guessed Dan, not really looking at Kyle as he casually pulled out a yo-yo and began fiddling with it. He leaned against the wall next to him. "Don't worry, it's cool with us. We believe that harmony makes for a brighter future, and harmony's made when everyone lives together and doesn't fall for the man's tricks. Dude, I need some weed…"

Hartman stared. "Aye…well, Benny and I joost don't mind is all," he muttered.

"So you're really the only ones in town who don't hate Jewish people?" asked Kyle.

"Mrr, mrmrfrrmfrrmrmrr," replied Benny.

"Well, fuck your parents, they don't know what's good for them," growled Andrea.

Kyle had expected an angry response. At least a leer. Nothing happened. "You guys just let her say stuff like that?"

"Pssh," scoffed Dan, "our parents ARE stupid. WE'VE said worse about 'em."

"Tis true," Hartman agreed. "I even changed mah name from Carl O'Bickensnort to Eric Hartman, joost because o' mah pa bein' such a cocksoocker. Never hushes 'bout the Jews, never does."

"Your name was Carl O'Bickensnort?" Kyle couldn't help laughing.

"Yeah," chuckled Dan. "He's so goddamn Irish."

"Aye! Don't ye be a'makin' fun o' mah people, nah!" demanded Hartman. "Screw ye wigs; I'm a'goin' home!" And he stomped off.

"Mrfmrf," teased Benny.

"Bring us back some Lucky Charms, you fat Irish piece of crap!" called Dan, and the four of them doubled over.

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Kyle returned home with a big smile.

"Bubbe!" his mother greeted cheerfully. "How was your first day of school?"

"It wasn't bad," he replied. "I made some more friends."

"So did we," Sheila chortled. "In fact, they're coming over for dinner at six. Help me make the stew, would you, Sweetie?"

"_I guess nobody mentioned the whole Jew thing…well, hopefully they don't figure it out."_ thought Kyle. "I'll be right there, Mom." He made his way upstairs to his room, where he tossed his bag to the side and dialed the phone.

"Hello?" answered Stan back in South Park.

"Hey, Stan…it's Kyle."

"…what do you want?"

"Stan, I don't know what to think of this town. It isn't full of Jews; it's full of Jew-haters."

"Does that mean…you're coming back to South Park?" Stan sounded expectant.

"I don't know…"  
"Well, why the hell would you stay where you're not welcome?!"

"There's more to it than that! Not everyone here is like that. I met this girl named Andrea, and she's Jewish, too-"

"Oh, I see!" growled Stan. "You got a girlfriend, so everything else just instantly cancels out!"

"Stan, now you're being selfish. I _like_ it here, so-"

"Kyle!" called Sheila from downstairs. "Come meet the Rosenblatts!"

Kyle paused. He knew that name. "S-Stan, I gotta go." _Click._

Downstairs, Andrea and her parents were kicking their shoes off.

"Andrea!" Kyle greeted from the bottom of the stairs.

"Hey, Kyle," she blurbed, her half-lidded eyes wandering slowly. This behavior concerned him.

"You…okay?" he questioned.

"Oh-oh, don't mind our little Andrea, she's just got a little cough is all," Andrea's mother chuckled, somewhat shaky. Her parents appeared shaky in general. Her father, Edward, was dressed fairly normal, save for his messy hair and inconspicuously backwards orange tee. Her mother, Malinda, on the other hand, dressed the same as her daughter: nothing but black on her beater and velvet jeans.

Soon, the two families had gathered in the living room. Gerald and Sheila ended up with most of the chatting.

"Well, so far, this really is a wonderful town," commented Gerald.

Andrea wheezed. Kyle frowned. Edward faintly giggled. Malinda twitched. Ike babbled to himself about Dutch politics.

"Umm…I'll go check the stew," muttered Sheila, trying to sound pleasant as she rose from the couch and retreated to the kitchen.

Silence. After a moment or two, Gerald offered for Kyle to show Andrea his room.

"S-sure…" he mumbled. The two climbed up the stairs and entered his room. "Andrea, this isn't just a cough." he said, closing the door behind them. "You…look like you've been smoking."

"So?" Andrea responded plainly.

"Andrea!"

"It's my decision!"

"This isn't a decision! It's a problem! Andrea, I didn't think that YOU would-"

"Kyle, LOOK at me!"

More silence. "Look at _what_?" Kyle demanded, his disappointment mixing now with confusion.

"Fine, I see how it is! I'm leaving!"

"What the hell- Andrea!"

"Fuck you, Kyle!"

Andrea stormed downstairs and easily dragged her parents out of the house as Kyle's family watched, confused.

Ike tugged on Sheila's pants and asked, "Mommy, what the fuck just happened?"


	4. Chapter 4: Intervention

Chapter Four: Intervention

"Ky-le!" whined Ike. "I wanna play Candy Land!"

"Ike, Mom and Dad aren't home, so you have to come with me," Kyle ordered, tugging the toddler behind him.

"Are we gonna go see your bitch?"

"Andrea's not my bitch! She's my friend, and she needs help. She hasn't been in school since her family came over for dinner the other night, and I'm positive it involves her issue with smoking. Well, it's time for her only friends to intervene."

"Innerveme!" chanted Ike. Kyle sighed as they marched up the path to Dan's house.

Simply nearing the abode, the brothers could already whiff the incense creeping out the windows. Dan answered the door, setting a small acoustic guitar off to the side. His half-closed eyes blinked, a bit surprised to see who was at the door.

"Kyle?" he blurted. His lazy gaze traveled down to Ike, who was carelessly chewing on a dandelion. "Dude, what's with the trashcan dressed up as a baby?"

"It's not-" Kyle began to shout. "Ugh, never mind. Anyway, are you busy right now?"  
"Nah," sighed Dan. "But if you wanna hang out, I gotta go get my weed first."

"Your…weed? You do weed?!"

"I already told you that, duh."

Kyle's heart fell. Just then, Ike peeked around Kyle's legs up at Dan. "Staaaan!" he shouted. Kyle frowned down at his brother, who was now suddenly clinging to Dan's leg as Dan simply picked his nose.

"_Wow…up until now I've kinda just suppressed that strange, familiar feeling I got looking at my new classmates, but…he DOES look a lot like Stan! And Hartman…Cartman! Benny…oh, my God!_"

"So…like, let's go blow a joint or something," Dan offered just then.

"Huh? No!" protested Kyle, his mind reverting back to his goal. "The reason I came over was to ask you to come help me intervene on Andrea and her smoking problem! But if you're a smoker yourself…"

Kyle sighed and yanked Ike off of Dan's leg. "Listen, do Hartman or Benny smoke, too?" he asked, calming.

"Benny does weed too, but Hartman doesn't want anything to do with Andrea's problem," explained Dan. "Well, he did, but whenever he said something to her, she got really mad. One time, she even punched him in the face. So…I dunno if you should bother."

Kyle gulped. "Well…I'm not afraid! Come on, Ike." Kyle left, peeling Ike away from Dan again.

Hartman's house was conveniently two blocks away.

"Top o' the evenin' to ye," he greeted, also seeming somewhat surprised.

"Hartman…I talked to Dan, and…" Kyle muttered, holding Ike's hand. "Well, no matter what you say, we have to convince Andrea to quit smoking!"

Hartman gasped. "Huh-uh, no weh," he sputtered nervously, cowering behind the door. "D'y'know what she'd do te ye if ye bugged her about that? Aye, y'don' wanna know, nah…"

"Look, Hartman…I really need your help! I mean, what if she doesn't listen to me?"

"She'll listen iffin' I ain't there!"

"How do you know?"

"I, uhh…uhh…" Hartman glanced around inside the house for a way out of the argument. "Sorry, um, I got me far too much homework te do." The door slammed shut the boy's faces.

Kyle stomped a foot. "Goddammit! YOU'RE A CHICKEN, HARTMAN! YOU KNOW THAT! BOK-BOK-BA-_GAWWWK_!!"

"What now?" asked Ike, tugging on his brother's jacket.

Kyle sighed. "I guess we'll have to go talk to Andrea. Just you and me."

"No." Ike protested.

"Ike, you don't have a choice."

"Ice cream!"

So, the toddler was dragged away as he begged for ice cream.

After a good hike up the street, at the end appeared the Rosenblatt house. The tiny abode's paint was horribly chipped, the porch steps crude and worn, and the windows smashed. Several rolls of toilet paper had been tossed all over the property. Determined, Kyle approached and rang the old doorbell. Andrea came, cigarette in hand, eyes lazy like Dan's had been. Her eyebrows cocked up as she deliberately took a long drag.

"Andrea…why do you do this?" Kyle started. "Don't you realize that you could _die_?"

"Yeah, I know!" she spat. "And don't YOU realize that I don't give shit what happens to me? Don't YOU realize that sometimes I just WANT to die, and this is a great start, Kyle! If my parents refuse to leave this stupid town, then I'd rather just fucking die!!"

Edward walked by just then, beer bottle in hand, but made no response to Andrea's shouting. She stepped out and slammed the door.

"Andrea, it doesn't have to be so bad," Kyle mewed hopefully. "I mean…I'm here! So, now they'll be ripping on me half the time instead! And you and I can deal with it, together! But…killing yourself certainly won't help. Just…give this new start a try. I promise, it won't be so bad."

Andrea thought, her face still making it clear that she was annoyed. Kyle waited. Finally, she dropped the joint and scuffed it out. He beamed. Ike picked up the smoking item and began to chew on it.

"Don't forget, you made that a promise," Andrea mumbled, staring at the dirty floorboards of the porch as she fled back into the house.

But Kyle was satisfied.

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"So, like…why'd you invite me 'n Hartman out for ice cream?" asked Dan. "Did it work? You talked to Andrea?" The four boys- he, Kyle, Ike and Hartman- squeezed into a booth at Baskin Robbins, cups of chocolate ice cream in hand.

"Yeah. She's gonna stop," Kyle told them proudly. "I don't know, though. She seemed a little uncertain."

"Nah, knowing her, I'd say that she'll at least try to stop if she said she would. She doesn't like to lie to people." said Dan. Just then, his cell phone rang. It was his girlfriend, Mindy. "Hello?…Mi-hih-hin-_dy_, 's goin' on?" he purred, taking his call and ice cream outside.

"Dan has a girlfriend?" Kyle questioned aloud, taking another lick.

"Aye…" sighed Cartman, "more or less. Anywho, I'm glad Andrea listened to ye. Ye must truly matter te her."

Kyle felt his cheek. It was warm. He was _blushing_. He tried to shake off his thoughts of Andrea and inquired Hartman, "So, I know Andrea's addiction bothered you, but what about Dan? I mean, you know he does weed, right?"

"Dan?" chortled Hartman. "He's a hippie, he is! That be his thing, ye know? He's not bad 'bout it, though, he isn't. But he wouldn't never listen anyway, nah."

"He's a hippie," Kyle blinked. "And that doesn't bother you?"

"No, why ye be askin'?"

"…he is so much cooler than Cartman…"

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The bell rang the next morning. Naturally, Kyle had long since been in his chair as the other kids piled into the room. Andrea scrambled into her seat, almost knocking it over. She twitched in her seat, eyes peculiarly wide.

"Andrea? Something wrong?" mumbled Kyle.

"HI, KYLE!!" she blurted, chewing a pencil.

"You look really nervous."

"Thanks to you! This is how I am if I don't blow a joint or two in the morning!"

"Well, not that I'm changing my mind, but that's not MY fault."

"Nnngh! What time is it?!"

Kyle glanced down at his desk. Someone had written on it. The sloppy etchings read: "Go home, Jew." He sighed.

"Bl-Blue wrote it," stammered Andrea, hardly looking.

"Huh?"

"That's her gel pen. O-or else Cici borrowed it, but it probably isn't her, 'cause I heard, too."

"Heard what?"

"I heard Cici talking about you in the halls this morning. She thinks you're hot."

"Really?"

"Yeah, so Blue must've written it."

"But she knows I'm Jewish. So why does she like me?"

"She doesn't. Being hot and being liked aren't the same thing, you know."

"Hew, Jewbutt!" called Biscuits, heading Kyle's way and staring up at him. "Uh, Greg wants to beat you up after sch-school." He twiddled with his hands.

"Greg?" muttered Kyle. Biscuits pointed to a boy wearing red, turning around in his seat, and glaring. He distinctively flipped Kyle off and turned back to the front.

Kyle frowned, holding back a gulp.


	5. Chapter 5: BFF

Chapter Five: BFF

During the last ten minutes of class, Kyle found himself in a stare-down with Greg near the front of the room.

"You're not really gonna fight him, are you?" pleaded Andrea, having calmed down throughout the day.

"Don't worry, I don't plan on it," Kyle replied quietly. "They tease me enough; I don't care what more this could do."

The bell rang. Kyle's blood suddenly ran cold as most of the students rushed out; likely, to the playground. Now, the only ones remaining in the room were him, Andrea and Greg as the teacher exited as well. Andrea's gaze darted between Kyle and Greg as they hopped out of their desks and paused to stare once again.

"You'd better be there, you sissy little Jew!" Greg cackled, grabbing his books and heading out. "Unless you're a chicken like all the rest of you!"

Suddenly, Kyle pounded an angry fist on his chair, gritting his teeth. "I have HAD it!" he growled as Andrea stood beside him, frowning. "I'll be more than happy to give one of these bastards a piece of my mind!"

"But, Kyle!" cried Andrea. "Greg's the toughest guy in the whole fourth grade! He'll kick your ass!"

"No way…" hissed Kyle, venom stinging his words. "I'm gonna tear off that middle finger of his if I can't teach these retards a lesson."

Andrea followed reluctantly as he stormed out of the room.

"Kyle! Kyle!" called Dan as they ignorantly passed him at his locker.

"Don't try to stop me!" ordered Kyle, not stopping to even glance his way.

"But you have NO idea how tough Greg is! He can even kick Hartman's ass! Man, you did NOT wanna be there, man, I mean-"

"So call this payback," Kyle muttered lowly, shoving open the doors to the school. Just then, Andrea stepped in front of him and aggressively hauled him up over her by his collar.

"Kyle, if you go fight him…If you go fight him, I'll start smoking again! So…you'd better not!" she yelled in his stone face.

"You know you won't."

Andrea blinked. Kyle swatted her hands off and left her and Dan staring after him.

"What does that even mean?!" she shouted, confused.

"Come on, we've gotta at least back him up," Dan told her, grabbing her arm and leading her to the playground.

"Where's Hartman?"

"He left. You know him; he never wants any part of stuff like this. Sometimes I think he's more of a wimp than I am."

Andrea snickered. Dan leered.

There it was. The big circle of kids they knew would be there. They peeked over the chanting crowd- luckily being among the taller ones in their class- to see Kyle and Greg, wrenching their fists.

"Come on, Shebrew! Hit me!" taunted Greg.

"You challenged me, you start," shot back Kyle, emotionless.

It finally happened. Kyle took a blow right in the cheek, nearly knocking him off his feet. Regaining himself, he put up his fists, swung, missed. Before he knew it, Greg had him pinned on the ground, laughing.

Andrea and Dan watched in horror as Kyle was punched repeatedly in the face. Andrea felt something. A determined feeling, pushing her forward. Pushing her through the crowd to the middle. She scowled and yanked Greg off of Kyle.

"Wha-"

_Smack!_ Andrea pounded Greg in the nose. He fell out of her grip to the ground next to Kyle, unconscious. The entire group fell silent. Andrea shoved her way back out of the crowd and left everyone gaping. Soon, the crowd began muttering, dispersing, and leaving only Dan, Kyle and the out-cold Greg.

Kyle stood. "Damn," he squeaked.

"She's like that," Dan told him, putting his hands in his pockets. He started to leave.

"Y'know…" Kyle started. Dan halted and cocked his head to the side. "…when I first found out the truth about this town, I had actually decided I would leave, never come back. But then I met Andrea. And…even though I'm probably getting just as much crap as her…I feel sorry for her."

Dan turned all the way to Kyle, smirking slyly. "You fucking love her, don't you?"

"WHAT?!" Kyle bleated. "I'm nine! I don't even like girls yet!"

Dan chuckled. "Me neither."

"…but what about Mindy?"

"Dude- have you _seen_ her ass?"

"So you're going out with a girl you don't even like?"

"Kyle, she's a total dyke. Didn't you figure that out?"

"Wha- why the hell are you going out with a lesbian?!"

"Hey, ask her; she's the one who asked ME out."

"…I don't get girls at all."

"You seem to get Andrea just fine."

"Oh, fuck off!"

"Chill, man, I'm kidding."

"Ugh, it doesn't matter anyway! Even if I did like her, I'm way more concerned with being a good friend, like you guys." sighed Kyle.

"Well, yeah. Hartman, Benny, 'n I just kinda feel like…it's our job, y'know? I mean, when we first met her, she was getting beat up by some other kid. And we were only kindergartners back then. Right off, we decided that if no one else would be nice to her, it was up to us. I mean, what if she, like, tried to kill herself or something?"

Kyle gulped. "Uh-huh…yeah…"

"Aye, but after Lyle came along, things seemed te change." added Hartman, who came up behind Dan just then.

"Geez!" hissed Dan, jumping a bit. "How long have you been listening?"

"Since 'round the time I heard mah name. Sorry iffin' I scared ye."

Kyle thought about Cartman again. Cartman, who would laugh, not apologize.

"Yeah, I miss that guy." sighed Dan.

"Who?" blurted Kyle.

"Lyle."

"Who's Lyle?"

"Lyle," Hartman started, "wus Andre'as boyfriend. He was also a Jew. But his fam'ly fin'ly got tir'd o' how ev'rybody else treated 'em, so they moved away. In fact, twas just a wee bit before ye came along."

"Yeah, you got their old house, I think," added Dan.

Kyle frowned quizzically. "…Lyle. Seriously?"

"Aye," said Hartman, looking pensive now. "Matter o' fact, the fella kinda looked like ye do, Kyle. Tis strange."

"Poor guy got the hatred worse than Andrea did. She really misses him, but we all know it was for his own good. I hope South Park isn't like North Park." Dan pitied.

"Lyle moved to South Park?" gasped Kyle.

"Aye. Andrea tells that that be where ye come from, hmm?" replied Hartman. Without any response, Kyle dashed home and called Stan.

"Stan! Is there a new student in South Park named-"

"Lyle Brockman?"

"He IS there? What does he look like?"

"…uh, you, actually. He even wears the same green hat. How'd you know about him?"

Kyle paused and thought. "Three guys."

"Huh?"

"I met three guys in my new class here- Dan, Benny, and…Eric Hartman. Think about that."

Stan thought. "Does Dan…look like me?"

"And Benny covers up his face, and most people don't understand him. And Hartman is…like a really nice, really Irish…Cartman."

"I don't think this is just a coincidence."

"Me neither. Something's not right. A lot of weird stuff's been going on. I mean, this all started when I got a coupon for a free house!"

"Kyle, you've gotta come back to South Park."

"I can't, my parents like it here too much."

"But don't they know about the whole Jewish thing?"

"No."

"So tell them!"

"They won't believe me! And besides…I don't wanna leave yet."

"What? Kyle!"

"I've made a lot of awesome friends here!"

"But what about all the friends you have here?"

"…you. And Kenny."

"But…n-nobody here cares if you're Jewish or-"

"Uhh…"

"…well, fuck Cartman! _Come home!_"

"Stan…I'm sorry, but I just can't."

"Fine! Lyle's all I need anyway! He and I are best friends now!"

Stan slammed the phone down on the receiver. Kyle sighed, hung up, and let his head drop on his desk.

"I'm starting to hate being Jewish."


	6. Chapter 6: Lyle

Chapter Six: Lyle

Back in South Park, Stan marched down the sidewalk, still huffing over his conversation with Kyle.

Meanwhile, Lyle sat on the couch at his house, watching wrestling. The doorbell rang. He grumbled to himself and answered. A sheepish-looking Stan stood on the porch.

"You're that Dan-looking kid, aren't you?" he slurred over a mouthful of gum, which he then proceeded to spit out next to Stan's feet.

"No, I told you it's _Stan_. Dan was your friend in North Park, wasn't he?" he replied, stepping to the side a bit. Lyle frowned.

"How d'you know Dan?" he inquired.

"Uh, never mind. You…wanna go throw rocks at cars with me?"

"God, this town kicks ass." Lyle stepped out, closed the door behind him, and left with Stan. "Why do you wanna hang out with me so much?" The two boys climbed a hill.

"Well, uh…" stammered Stan, "you're new here, and, uh…you just shouldn't feel lonely or anything."

"Back where I'm from, I had no friends. None that mattered to me, anyway, except for my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend? Who?"

"Andrea was her name."

"…Andrea…Rosenblatt?"

Lyle paused and frowned. Stan noticed and turned to see him run up and grab him by the collar.

"All right, what the fuck is this? You ARE Dan, aren't you? Why'd you follow me to South Park, man?!" he yelled, shaking Stan and gritting his yellow teeth.

"Ahh!" cried Stan in fear. "Lemme go! I-I'm not Dan! I'm Stan Marsh! Stan Marsh!"

"Then how the hell do you know my girlfriend? How do you know Dan!"

"I-it was Kyle! Kyle told me!"

"Who's Kyle?" demanded Lyle, shoving Stan away from himself.

"He's my best friend. He moved to North Park not long before you came here, but I still talk to him." explained Stan, rubbing his neck.

"Is he…He-he's not Jewish is he?!"

"Yeah, he is. That's why he's friends with Andrea. Dan, too."

"Lyle turned away. "He'd better fucking never touch my girl." he muttered lowly to himself. And with that word and tightened fists, he turned on his heel and ran. But then he stopped and jabbed a finger at Stan's face. "I want that fucker's number!"

"Why?"

"Give…me…his fucking…number."

"Only if you promise to stay the hell away from him!"

Lyle glared. Stan glared.

"No need to worry," Lyle assured, squinting fiercely.

"I don't believe you."

"Will you believe me when my foot's in your fucking nuts?!"

"Better mine than Kyle's!"

Lyle growled.

"Just leave him alone." huffed Stan.

"Look," sighed Lyle. "If I really wanted to _do_ anything, I wouldn't bother calling him; I would just go straight down there. All I wanna do is find out how Andrea's doing."

"So call HER."

"Don't you think I wanna? I don't have her number anymore."

"Call Dan."

"Goddammit, gimme that number!!"

Lyle tore forward and shoved Stan down on the hill violently. He then kicked the defenseless, cowering boy right between the legs. Stan shrieked in pain as Lyle stood and brushed himself off. His glare bore down into Stan's cringe.

"I WILL get that fucking turd's number _if it's the last thing I do_. You tell anyone about this and you're DEAD." he growled slowly in a low, menacing tone. When Stan opened his eyes, Lyle was gone. He coughed and stumbled to his feet. Muttering a string of obscenities, he staggered back home.

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Andrea's phone rang. She answered to hear none other than Lyle asking for her.

"Lyle!" she gasped happily. "How'd you get my new cell number?"

"Oh, I called Dan and asked him." Lyle sighed pacing the floor. "How's it going?"

"…"

"That good, huh? I'm sorry I left you…"

"It's okay. I'm glad you could get away from this town. So how's South Park?"

"Aw, babe, it rocks. Everyone knows I'm Jewish, but they don't even care! Nobody does!"

"That's good…"

There was another pause. Lyle suddenly remembered why he'd called. "Andrea, who's Kyle?"

"…Kyle?"

"I heard that he moved at the same time I did. To North Park."

"Why do you ask?"  
"I just…I met his old best friend, and he thinks I should meet 'im."

"Oh, I can give you his number! Lemme check my phone."

Lyle grinned.

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Kyle's phone rang next. "Hello?" he spoke into the receiver.

"…is there a Kyle Broflovski there?" came an unfamiliar voice.

"…yeah, I'm Kyle."

"Yeah? Y'know who I am?"

"Uh, no."

"You know Andrea."

"All right, who is this?"

"Her boyfriend. I'm Lyle Brockman."

Kyle froze. "_Lyle_?"

"That's right. Just what the fuck have you been doing with my girl?!"

"What do you mean, she's just my friend! A-and how'd you get my number?"

"Well, I had to ask Andrea, 'cause your friend Stan wouldn't tell."

Kyle's jaw dropped. "What the fuck did you do?!"

"That little shit had it coming!"

"Had _what _coming? You'd better not touch Stan!"

"I think it's time to move back to North Park." _Click._

"What? Hello? Hello!" Kyle's calls were not heard. "Goddammit!" he yelled, hanging up the phone. "Stan…"

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Lyle's mother passed by his room, stopping when she heard a loud sobbing coming from inside. Concerned, she knocked and entered.

"Lyle, sweetie? What's wrong?" pleaded his mother when she saw him burying his face in his pillow. She sat down on the side of his bed and rubbed his back.

"I wanna- _sniff_- I w-wanna go back ho-home!" he cried, muffled by the pillow. "I miss my f- my fr-friends!"

"Oh, sweetheart, you can't possibly miss North Park. Don't you like being accepted again?"

"But I…I miss A-Andrea! And Dan! And Benny and H-Hartman, too!"

"I'm so sorry, darling, but you need to give this place a chance."

"I did, and…it's okay, but-"

"Then there's no problem, right? Come on, now, why don't you invite one of your new friends over?"

Lyle shook his head quickly.

"All right, well, dinner will be ready in a little bit." Lyle's mom kissed him on the top of his hat and left.

Lyle growled, sitting up. "It didn't work." he grumbled.

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Stan's phone rang. It was Kyle.

"Yeah?" Stan replied to his friend's greeting with a frown.

"Stan! Are you okay? What did Kyle do?" cried Kyle on the other end.

Stan blinked. "He kicked me in the nuts. Really, really hard."

"That asslicker called me just now and told me he had done something to you! What the hell happened?"

"…I just told you."

"So you're all right?"

"No, Kyle, I'm not. I had to limp all the way home earlier, and my balls still hurt. A lot."

"Oh, thank God."

"What?!"

"Stan- what's Lyle going to do now? Where is he?"

"He's probably at home. He only told me he would get your phone number."

"You didn't tell him anything, did you?"

"No."

"But what do I do if he moves back? Aw, shit!"

The two thought.

"Stan!" blurted Kyle. "You guys have to be Lyle's best friends!"

"Huh?"

"Just to make sure he really loves it there in South Park. That way, he won't wanna move back!"

"Dude, he's not like that."

"Please, just try, okay?"

Stan sighed. "Fine. But Kyle?"

"Yeah?"

"Even if I am his best friend…he'll never be mine."

_Click._

…

_Click._


	7. Chapter 7: Lyle's BFF

Chapter Seven: Lyle's BFF

Drawing in a deep breath the next cold morning, Stan knocked at Lyle's door. Lyle's mother answered.

"Dan! What are you doing in South Park?" she cried upon seeing him. Stan pinched the bridge of nose.

"It's not Dan, Mom. It's Stan," sighed Lyle, appearing between the two with an exasperated frown.

"Hey, Lyle…" muttered Stan. "You wanna go…hang out?"

Lyle's mother smiled and nudged him out. The boys ventured to the school playground.

"All right, what do you want?" demanded Lyle, stepping in front of Stan so that he stood in front of the gate.

"Nothing," pleaded Stan, waving his hands in defense from the fierce look he was given. "I just wanted to hang out…"

"Well, if it's about Kyle, don't bother. I can't go back anyway."

"Why?"

"My family loves it here."

"Even you?"

"Well, yeah. I'm Jewish. North Park is for Jew-_haters_."

"So why did you move there?"

"Well, some dickhole told us that the town was full of Jewish people. A few months later, we-"

"Wait, what?!"

"…we heard it was a Jew town."

"Dude! So did Kyle!"

"And did he get a cheesy coupon for a free house?"

"Yeah!"

Lyle frowned and turned away. "I've gotta go back to North Park!"

"Why? If you hate it so much, just stay here. Forget about all the coupons and being teased for your religion. No one here cares."

Lyle scoffed. "Yeah, maybe. But…I can't forget Andrea!"

"Well, what do you want her to do? Move here?"

Lyle paused. "That's an awesome idea…" He smiled.

Stan blinked. "What, really?"

"Yeah! If she lives here, she can have friends, and that asshole Kyle will stay away from her!"

"Hey! That 'asshole' is my best friend!"

"So!"

"Dude, what the hell is your problem with Kyle?!"

"Andrea's MY girlfriend!"

"So what? Kyle just wants to be her friend!"

"Yeah, it'll start that way, but-"

"All right, why are you being so fucking selfish?! Andrea can take care of herself!"

"No, she can't."

"What?"

"I'm the toughest kid in my class!"

Stan paused, his glare softening a bit. "And?"

Lyle sighed, calming. "You know that people used to beat Andrea up all the time, right?"

"Well, I kinda figured…" admitted Stan.

"When I came along, I _made sure_ they left her alone."

"Wha…why?!"

"Why the hell do you think? I couldn't just let them kick her ass! If she ever wanted to go home from school without Greg following her and knocking her senseless for no reason, it was up to ME. If she wanted to stop thinking of maybe KILLING herself, it was up to ME! ANDREA was up to ME! Y'know why? Because I was the only person that loved her!!"

The only sound was Lyle, panting, catching his breath. He whirled around away from Stan.

"You're NINE. How do you even know what love is yet?" said Stan.

"That's not your business! I loved her, and that's that!" shouted Lyle, throwing his arms out and letting them fall with a slap.

A thought came up in Stan's mind. "No. You can LIKE Andrea all the hell you want. Or maybe…this isn't about Andrea. You only care about getting back at everyone else in North Park, and this is your crappy excuse. You're a liar! You just beat up the other kids because they made fun of YOU!!"

Slowly, Lyle turned to face Stan, a venomous glare in his eyes. Stan shivered. Lyle, without taking his eyes off the trembling boy, reached into his pocket. Stan took a step back. He blinked when Lyle's hand slowly withdrew a cigarette and a lighter. Staring down Stan still, he lit the cigarette, put away the lighter, and puffed.

"I'll give you ten seconds…to get outta here," he hissed, his voice low and dark. "Consider it a…head start."

But Stan did not run. He sighed and calmly walked away. Lyle watched for a moment until he dropped the cigarette and stomped on it to chase Stan.

Suddenly, Stan felt himself being shoved down on the sidewalk. He flipped over to face Lyle, who stood there, doing nothing more than give Stan a stern look.

"That's it?" asked Stan, still on his back and elbows. "I pissed you off. Big time. And that's all you're gonna do?"

Another long pause, Finally, Lyle grabbed Stan by the collar and punched him in the face time and again until he lost consciousness. Lyle stared into the scrunched-up, bruised face for a long time.

"Why did you ask for this?" he muttered. "You didn't fight me back…"

Stan stirred long enough to respond, cracking, "Sometimes…a guy's gotta…blow off some steam…" And once again fell limp.

Lyle dropped him and left.

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"Mrr! MRRF!" cried a voice. Stan felt hands on his shoulders, grabbing and shaking him.

"Come on, Kenny, he's out. Let's just push 'im in the gutter and go already!" whined another.

"Frrfrr, Mrmrr!" growled Kenny. Stan peeled his eyes open to see his friend's big eyes peeking through his big orange hood.

"K-Kenny…?" he sputtered, sitting up on the cement. He noticed Cartman standing over them, arms crossed.

"Thanks a lot, Stan! Now Kenny and I are gonna miss our movie! Fuckin' pussy!" he spat. Stan glared through his blackened eyes.

"Rrmrmrfmrmrr?" asked Kenny, helping him stand up.

"Lyle. Listen, Kyle wants us to be his…best friends." said Stan, spitting a bit of blood out from his teeth.

"Ummmmm…" Cartman hummed for a long time, "…no?"

"Cartman, come on!" growled Stan. "If Lyle's family doesn't love it here, he's gonna move back to North Park and kick Kyle's ass for practically no reason!"

"…killer…" squeaked Cartman with delight.

"No! It's NOT killer, you fucking fatass! Look what that bastard did to me! And he's done it before! I'm not about to let him do this to Kyle, too!" shouted Stan. Cartman stared.

"Look, Stan," he began. "Even if I DID care about Kyle, there's no point. Lyle is a dick. He's such a dick that he almost makes me look…_nice_. He's not gonna wanna be any of our friends. He-is-a-DICK." Stan blinked.

"Dude, nobody's mean enough to make you look nice." was his only concern.

"Ay!"

"Well, so what! Even if he hates our guts, he could still love it here just 'cause people are being nicer to him."

"I told you, I already DO love it here." Lyle came up behind Cartman and puffed smoke at the back of his hat before he whirled around to glare.

"What the hell was that?! Don't EVER sneak up on me, you fuckin' Jewshit!" yelled Cartman, jabbing a chubby, mittened finger in Lyle's face. Lyle reared back and kicked Cartman hard between the legs. Cartman squealed and fell to his knees, cringing.

"Hey! Knock it off, Lyle!" ordered Stan.

"Look, I came here to tell you that…it's over. Andrea's never gonna move here, and there's still no way my parents would wanna go back to North Park." sighed Lyle, stepping around Cartman and dropping his cigarette at Stan and Kenny's feet.

"So…you'll leave Kyle alone?" squeaked Stan.

"No," replied Lyle, turning and starting to wander off again. "I'll get to North Park myself."

Stan gasped. Kenny held him back as he tried to chase Lyle.

"Kenny, quit it!"

"Mrf!" protested Kenny. "Mrfrmmrmrfmrf, mrmrr! Mrf, frmmrfrfmr, rfrmrmrmrfmrf. Mrmrfrmr, mrmrrmrr, mrmrmrfmrf!"

"Okay…" sighed Stan. "Cartman, how are your balls?"

Cartman didn't respond.

"Ugh," grunted Stan, "that's it! If that's the way Lyle wants it, I won't take it. I'll kick his ass myself, and make sure he never gets back to North Park again!"

"No…" hissed Cartman, low and dark as he slowly rose to a stand. "He made it personal. That fucker's MINE…because NOBODY kicks me in the balls."


	8. Chapter 8: Happy Birthday, Kyle

Chapter Eight- Happy Birthday, Kyle

"Okay, class, quiet down. I understand that we have a birthday in the class today." grumbled Mr. Chokesonmuf.

Kyle beamed.

"So, Squeek, come on up and we'll all sing 'Happy Birthday.'"

"Gah!" cried a twitching, messy-haired boy as he climbed out of his seat and scrambled to the front of the room. As everyone else sang, Kyle sighed and slumped in his chair.

"What's wrong, Kyle?" asked Andrea.

"Today's MY birthday, too…" he told her sadly.

"It is?!"

Kyle listened to the song. "Happy birthday, dear Squee-eek…!" the class chorused. In his mind, Kyle filled in the words Cartman used to sing.

"Happy birthday, dear Jew-cake…!" he would blurt, howling with laughter even as the teacher would then assign him detention. Now, Kyle almost missed those days.

After the song, Squeek sat down as cupcakes were passed out. Kyle solemnly passed it up.

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The bell rang at three. Everyone but Kyle and Andrea trooped out of the room.

"Hey, Kyle," said Andrea as the two hopped down from their desks. "Let's hang out tonight! I mean, unless you've already got birthday plans. I wanna get you a present. Whaddya say?"

"Sure, we can hang out…" replied Kyle. "But you don't need to bring a gift. Hey, I could invite Dan, Hartman, and Benny, too! Meet me on the playground tonight after dinner, okay? Since tomorrow's Saturday, I can stay out late. Seeya later!" He skipped out merrily, leaving Andrea sighing to herself.

"Okay…"

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Lyle awoke one morning in a dark, moving room on a hay bale. He crawled over his small bag and across the hard, wooden floor to slide open the big door and let the light flood in.

"Next stop: North County!" he heard the conductor shout.

Lyle grinned devilishly through the piercing wind against his face.

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"Mom, Dad?" blurbed Kyle over a mouthful of cake. "Can I go hang out with my friends at the playground tonight? They invited me to meet them after dinner."

"Oh, Kyle, you have such good friends! Of course you can go." piped his mother.

Kyle slipped on his jacket later and left to round up the boys. "Andrea said she'd meet us at the playground," he told them.

Sure enough, Andrea was there, standing in the middle of the cemented area. Her gaze was directed at the jungle gym, and she appeared to be shaking with a certain fright.

"Andrea!" called Kyle cheerfully, taking a step on the woodchips.

"Kyle! _Don't move!_" she whispered sharply with a slight panicked waver.

"What's wrong?" Kyle stopped as Dan, Hartman, and Benny peeked around him. Suddenly, they noticed a boy cock a handgun and step out from behind the jungle gym, pointing the weapon at Kyle. He slowly moved for a short moment with a death glare.

"Happy birthday…Kyle Broflovski." he hissed.

"Lyle?!" blurted Dan and Hartman, utterly shocked.

Kyle's blood ran cold as he gaped in horror. "You…you're-"

"Lyle Brockman, here with a very special birthday gift." stated Lyle.

"What the fuck is going on, Lyle?" yelled Dan, shoving past the stiff Kyle.

"Dan, stay back!" ordered Lyle. "I've got nothing against you. All three of you, just go away!"

Benny shrugged and left. Dan and Hartman stood their ground.

"Lyle, why are you here? A-and where did you get a gun?" demanded Dan until he stepped back when Lyle cocked the gun again.

"So, Andrea…THIS is the little pussy you're going out with now? You just couldn't wait to find another Jew to cling onto?!" he growled, still not taking his eyes off of Kyle.

"Lyle, you're being such a jerk! And Kyle's NOT my boyfriend!" shouted Andrea.

"Don't lie to me! I'm gonna kill this turd and-"

"All right, Lyle. You need to shut up and let this go," Kyle commanded, dark, yet brave. "You know, Stan and I were talking just a little while ago. He warned me about you. We don't think you even care about Andrea. You just used me and her as an excuse to come back to North Park and get back at everyone in town who made you so miserable before! You never cared about being Andrea's friend! You just wanted a 'good reason' to hurt people!!"

A hush fell over the group. Lyle's hands lowered to his sides, his glare softening.

"Is that…Lyle, he's wrong, isn't he?!" pleaded Andrea, a tear sliding down her cheek.

Lyle let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes. "You're a great friend, Andrea. That's all."

"But…you told me you…you _loved_ me!"

"I'm nine!" shouted Lyle, whirling to the side to face her. "I don't even like girls yet!"

"So what the hell was with the gun, Lyle?" Dan repeated angrily. "I mean, if Andrea had nothing to do with you coming back, then neither did Kyle, right?"

"Pssh, it's fake," scoffed Lyle, tossing the gun over his shoulder.

Kyle frowned. "Then what was the point of that?!"

"Andrea?" muttered Hartman just then in concern. "Ye all righty, lass?"

All eyes were now on Andrea, who was blankly staring over at Lyle. "Okay, I've had enough." she sighed plainly.

"What?" squeaked Kyle.

"Enough. I'm not living anymore." Suddenly, Andrea's hand darted in and out of her pocket, pulling out another gun. She pointed to her temple.

"ANDREA!!" screamed the boys.

"Wait, is that thing real?" asked Dan.

"Yes," replied Andrea.

"ANDREA!!" they cried again.

"Andrea, poot the goon dahn, nah," wavered Hartman.

"No!" she protested.

"Please, don't do it!" begged Dan. "Lyle, do something!"

"It's too late!" shouted Andrea.

"Whaddya want ME to do?" mumbled Lyle, starting to smoke again.

Just then, Kyle clenched his fists and marched towards Andrea.

"Stay back, Kyle! I-I'm not afraid to kill you first!" she commanded.

Kyle stopped in front of her and held out a hand. "Gimme the gun."

Andrea aimed at his forehead. He didn't flinch; he asked for the weapon again, softer, slower. All was silent, save for the quiet, fearful noises Andrea made in the back of her throat.

And with trembling hands, she fired. The others gaped in terror as Kyle fell on his back. There was a dead silence after the thud.

"K-Kyle?" stammered Andrea, lowering her hands and falling to her knees beside him. Slowly, Kyle sat up and rubbed a hand over his hat. To Andrea's surprise, he removed it and examined the hole in it as his auburn curls bounced out freely. There, in the middle of his tall Jew-fro, the bullet had singed a hole.

"I'm okay, Andrea," he grumbled, putting his hat back on. "Now, I'll ask you one more time…_give me the gun_."

Andrea stared at the hole in Kyle's hat until his hand came up again. Finally, she sighed and put the weapon in his hand. Dan and Hartman hurried over as the two of them stood up.

"Ye okay, there, lad?" Hartman panicked.

"Andrea, what were you thinking?! First, you wanna kill yourself, then you try to kill Kyle?!" Dan chastised. Suddenly, he let loose and slapped Andrea across the face. Andrea barely flinched as her gaze slowly returned to Kyle.

"Andrea, you'd better never try this crap again. You hear me?" growled Kyle. Andrea gulped and nodded hesitantly. The group heard footsteps and turned to see Lyle exiting with his hands in his pockets.

"Where do you think you're going, you bastard?!" called Kyle as everyone glared at Lyle's backside. He paused.

"Like you said," he began, "I'm only here to get my revenge." And he was gone.

"Come, Dan," sighed Hartman. He and Dan headed for the gate.

"Where are you guys going?" implored Kyle. But the two didn't stop.

"Just forget about Lyle, you guys," mumbled Dan.

"An' a happy-doodly birthyday, Kyle!" added Hartman. Kyle and Andrea watched them leave.

The only sound now was a cricket's chirping. Suddenly, Kyle whirled around to glare at Andrea. She jumped a bit.

"Why…why did my birthday have to go so wrong…?" he suspired, staring at the ground. Before Andrea could speak, Kyle hid the gun in his jacket and fled.


End file.
